The Call of the Earthmother
by oh the horror
Summary: Moira realizes in a vision quest that she is not a Grimtotem.
1. Malorne

_THE VISION_

_Carefully she crept into the dank Marsh, her feet carrying her further into depths unknown. She was not sure of where she was going and yet she KNEW how to get to where he was. The deep, soul-jarring pull she felt would guide her through the inky black cover of night time to her destination. Weaving between trees laced with silky cobweb, Moira moved further and further away from her camp and closer to him._

_Her senses were attentive to every nuance of the atmosphere: the thick weight of the rich mud on her hooves, the musty stagnant scent of the air, and the uneasy movement of the creatures who called Dustwallow Marsh home. It was unlike her to travel this far from camp. Moira preferred to stay close to camp not because she was comfortable there, nor because it was home, but merely because it was safer to be around the other Grimtotem as opposed to keeping company with the deadly creatures that roamed about the unforgiving Marsh._

_She knew that wandering far from her camp would get her a swift and likely brutal reprimand. All thoughts of any scolding she might receive dissipated as she sensed that her destination was near. Moira wasn't sure where she was and had no way of knowing how to get home, but she wasn't frightened; quite the opposite. Drawing nearer and nearer to the end of her journey, she paused. It - he - was just beyond those trees, she was sure of it. Anticipation shivered up her spine, excitement tingled through her blood, throbbed deep within her veins. Drawing in a shaky breath she crept ever closer, ever closer. A ghostly white light beckoned to her -- the moon? Was it him? Her eyes snapped shut and she gave in to temptation, hooves slowly carrying her into the clearing._

_And there he stood. It was him._

_"Apa'ro," she whispered. Malorne._

_The great white stag stood gracefully in the center of the clearing. He was magnificent in all his glory, shimmering with a stark whiteness that stung her searching eyes. It seemed he was even greater in size than the black drakes who called the southernmost parts of the Marsh home. And yet, despite his size, he radiated a gentleness and warmth that drew Moira closer and stifled her fears. The ambiance of the skittering Marsh seemed to fade away, replaced with something almost akin to warmth. Security. Home. Family. Moira realized she was crying salty silent tears that slowly crisscrossed down her furred cheeks._

_"Do not weep, child," his deep voice intoned, "You have no reason for these tears." She felt the words deep within her heart and she held them close to her, sacred. It was all she could do not to sob uncontrollably. His presence was overwhelming._

_"Why do you call to me, Apa'ro?" Moira queried in low and reverent tones, her next words chosen carefully and filled with self-contempt, "My people, the Grimtotem, have done nothing but cause the Earthmother pain." She raised a fisted hand and thumped it lightly against her chest, "And I feel the shame burning at my soul, it eats away at me! I feel the Earthmother's pain as if it were my OWN pain," she cried, her golden eyes alight with fury and sorrow, "It IS my own pain!"_

_Malorne's great head dipped low as he stepped closer to the distraught tauren. He pressed his nose against her forehead for a brief moment before turning those wise, ancient moon-eyes on Moira. The action quelled her emotional tirade, his touch giving her a sense of peace._

_"You are not of these lands, child. I know deep down you realize this. You understand that you are not of these brutal and unkind Grimtotem." He paused briefly, giving her time to realize what he was saying. He continued._

_"Do not waste away here, child. Do not let this sorrow eat at your soul. Naawe is your name. Riverbreeze is your clan." His head dipped once more, pleading with her to understand. "You are no Grimtotem. You are not tainted. You are Naawe Riverbreeze and it is time for you to find your place in this life. No more will you hide within the Grimtotem tribe. No more will you be looked down upon. No more will you answer to their taunts and name-calling. You are not Pesticide, as they call you, a poison to this earth. You are not Moira Grimtotem. Gather your courage, child, for you will need it. Your quest will not be simple or without pain." His ancient eyes glistened with emotion, "All is not how it seems and you must find the strength inside your heart to proceed. There is only ONE who can answer your questions. You must find your place, Naawe. The Earthmother needs you. Do you not hear her call?"_


	2. The Escape

--THE ESCAPE--

_--THE ESCAPE--_

Moira shook herself awake, tears streaming down her face. It was still early, the sky still dark and littered with stars. There was no moon this night, no light to guide her. It did not matter as Moira had no need for the moon's luminescent glow. She shuffled from her bed and dressed: a tunic made from Deadmire's scaly hide, leggings crafted from the scales of the black dragonkin who haunted the Marsh, and raptor-hide boots. She'd found the freshly slain corpse of Deadmire in the Marsh and had skinned him, chanting reverently over his twisted body. Moira knew that it was likely a Grimtotem who had slain the white crocolisk but she refused to let his spirit remain lost and disjointed. Her chants, she hoped, had eased his path back to the Earthmother.

Moira gathered everything she knew she might need: scraps of leather for crafting or bartering; sacred plants she'd gathered; simple potions she'd hoarded away; various reagents for her spells; a few precious silvers for purchasing anything else she might need. The meager food scraps she had were hastily stuffed into her pack. Moira knew the others held her in high contempt because she was so very high in Magatha Grimtotem's graces, and being rather smart Moira preferred to cook her own food. The other Grimtotem were not above poisoning her.

Moira did not know how long her vision quest would take her, nor did she care. She simply knew that she must follow the words of Apa'ro. The great white stag knew that her soul ached and he had opened her eyes to what she had been blindly ignoring.

She stepped out of her small tent which was set back from the others. It was surrounded by flowers and lush green plants which were unusually out of place in the dank and musty Dustwallow Marsh. Her home stuck out like a sore thumb and only solidified the fact that she was an outcast. The others mocked her, called her Pesticide. The name didn't truly bother her, not nearly as much as her own name did. Moira Grimtotem. Her lips curled disdainfully. No more. She was Naawe Riverbreeze. Her vision came back to her: the great Apa'ro, his quest for her. For the first time in her life she felt free. The rage that had tainted her heart had faded away. She knew what she had to do. She was ready. She was Naawe Riverbreeze, and the Earthmother called to her.

Naawe snuck away from the camp quietly. If she was caught she would be brutally dispatched. It was common knowledge that the Grimtotem didn't take kindly to clan members leaving and she had no doubt that they would take great pleasure in taking her life as penance for treason. She would be safe when she was free of the Marsh but until then she HAD to be careful. Thankfully the Grimtotem who occupied her camp seemed to be heavy sleepers. In all her years in life she had not once stepped foot out of Dustwallow Marsh. "There's always a first time for everything," Naawe muttered to herself under her breath as she distanced herself from camp.

"To whom do you speak, **owachi**?" The words were laced with sarcastic disdain. Naawe's eyes widened as she spun around in a swift movement, hand coming to rest at the dagger that was strapped to her thigh. There was only one clan member who would speak to her that way. "And where do you creep to so early in the morning?"

It was Jeddek, the youngest of the Grimtotem clan. He was a mere 3 years younger than her but he was proud of every 18 summers he had seen. He towered over her unnaturally petite 6 foot frame and outweighed her by at least 300 pounds. Despite his youth he was one of the larger Grimtotem, another reason he carried himself with such narcissistic pride. Jeddek enjoyed poking fun at Moira -no, Naawe- at every chance available.

"Go back to camp, Jeddek. My business is none of yours. I beg of you not to follow." Naawe paused for a moment, weighing her options. Jeddek made no move to turn back to camp. She knew she had to come up with a believable reason for leaving camp. "Magatha called to me in a dream," the lie came too easy, "I am travelling to Thunder Bluff to see her. She would be angry if you were to follow, I am sure of it."

At her words, Jeddek's brow furrowed into a deep frown of disbelief. "Magatha's little pet," he spat, eyes narrowed with hatred. "**Pesticide. Worthless. Weak. You are nothing.**" Pesticide, poison to the Grimtotem, a disgrace to her clan; these insults were nothing new. His words held little sting as she lifted her head a bit higher with each barb that spilled from his twisted lips. She slashed her hand through the air between them to silence his tirade.

"Enough. I do not have the time to waste on you, Jeddek. I must be gone." She took a few steps backwards, daring him to follow. Her hand remained on the small dagger. "Go back to camp." He looked as though he intended to follow, but something held him back and he turned towards camp. "May the spirits guide you, Pesticide, and beware of the lands away from the Marsh. It would be most unfortunate if something were to happen to you, **owachi**." His words were heavily laced with sarcasm as he faded back into the gloomy darkness of the Marsh. Naawe heard the dark inflection of his voice. She felt the strong desire to put distance between herself and the Grimtotem camp. Thankfully speed was on her side.


	3. The Shady Rest Inn

THE INN

THE INN

Naawe's druidic powers never ceased to amaze her. It happened so fluidly, so smoothly. No matter what form she took, Naawe did it with grace and ease. She did so now, her body contorting easily into her cheetah-like travel form. With a menacing growl in the direction that Jeddek had taken, she hefted her pack into her mouth and took off running. Lithe, sinewy muscles shifted under her spotted pelt as she sprang into movement. Her pace was brisk as she dashed towards the border of Dustwallow Marsh and the Barrens, an area she knew all too well.

Memories of the chaotic night at the Shady Rest Inn wove themselves tremulously through her thoughts as she ran mindlessly towards the Marsh's border. The Inn had once been a nice hub for weary travelers and brave adventurers. Known for its notoriously filling meals and heavenly beds, it had been a cool drink in an otherwise parched and empty land. As a child Naawe had often spent her time hidden in the brush, watching folks of all races and walks of life pass through the inn. She never let herself be seen. Grimtotem were unwelcome in the Marsh. For reasons unknown to her, watching the patrons of the Shady Rest Inn had always been a thing of comfort to her, a way for her to escape the reach of the Grimtotem. Oftentimes she would pretend to be one of those patrons, living a carefree life of adventure and heroism. It was her sanctuary and she cherished the time she spent hidden away, giving the strangers names and histories using her own imagination.

One dreary evening the Elders at camp had received word from one of Magatha's servants. Naawe had been youthful; 16 summers, yet old enough to assist the others in carrying out the wishes of the Scourge. Magatha had been forming an alliance with the twisted and rotting Undead. Scourge orders directed them to go to the Inn and burn it, and its inhabitants, to the ground. Naawe was forced to attend, and it was a night she would never forget.

Jeddek's elder brother, Gralik, had been the one to instigate the fires. He was the stand-in leader for the Dustwallow Grimtotems, and he took great pleasure in setting the picturesque Inn ablaze. Jeddek, a mere 13 summers, had been no innocent in the brutal burning of the Inn. It even seemed as though he had taken great pleasure in watching a woman and child die in the blaze. Those were the sounds that Naawe could never purge from her memory; the woman's pleading, begging for the life of her young child; the putrid smell of burning flesh and hair; gurgled, agonized cries for help violently quelled by the intense heat of the fire. The Grimtotem congratulated each other on a job well done before heading back to camp for a small feast and then slumber.

Naawe had been unable to sleep for months afterwards, the nightmarish shrieks of agony ripping her out of a light sleep night after night. Even after the blaze she'd gone back to her hiding place, only once catching sight of a human man whose body was wracked by deep heartfelt sobs. She sat there that night, watching him until someone retrieved the broken, weeping man. Naawe had heard the name "Jim" mentioned and she couldn't help but wonder if the woman and child who perished in the fire had been his family.

Naawe shook herself from her tortured reverie as she neared the Shady Rest Inn. It was a depressing sight, looming there in the early morning light. Only the framework of the Inn remained. The fireplace was charred and broken. Cobwebs littered the pillars that were left standing. Naawe slowly came to a stop and rested her pack against a nearby boulder. Although it had been nearly six years since the blaze Naawe couldn't help but wonder if the spirits of the woman and child still ached to be set free. In that instant Naawe made the decision to perform a ceremony for the two lives lost in the awful blaze. It would be nothing special or fancy, but it would ease the spirits into passage back to the Earthmother. It was the least she could do.

"_Please r__est, spirits. What was done to you was unjust but the Earthmother calls. Go easy." _Naawe murmured the words softly in her native tongue, blessing the Inn and the ground around it. She bent to retrieve her pack. A swift shiver ran up her spine and she eased into a standing position, eyes drawn to the center of the Inn. A woman stood there, and a child. Their bodies were iridescent and undefined. They were the same woman and child who had been murdered unmercifully in that awful blaze. The woman smiled at Naawe before speaking, her voice low and melodious.

"We saw you that night, tauren. We know you had naught to do with our death. Do not torture yourself any longer, please."

Naawe nodded. "_Be free."_

The woman drew her child closer to her side, her smile growing even more brilliant. The small child gave Naawe a wave before the two faded into nothingness.

Naawe shifted once more into cheetah form and left the Marsh. There was nothing left for her here.


	4. The Barrens

THE BARRENS

THE BARRENS

It was early morning by the time Naawe found herself in the Barrens. The sterile landscape was dotted with scrubby trees, gently rolling hills providing contrast to the otherwise bland terrain. Something about the Barrens and its arid climate brought Naawe sorrow. She had heard tales from Magatha's own lips that long, long ago the Barrens had once been a lushly forested, thriving land. Now the dry savannahs reached as far as they eye could see. And yet, despite the constantly swirling dust and the hot winds, there was something determined about this place. Those who called this harsh land home had carved their way into the land, making do with what they had.

Shifting out of her travel form so that she might stretch her legs, Naawe paused for a moment. The "T" in the road was familiar to her. She knew that taking a left would lead her to the Grimtotem camps situated in Thousand Needles. That was the last place she wanted to go. With determination she turned to take a right, leading her north through the Barrens. It would only be a day's walk to Ashenvale.

Purposefully the druid travelled north. Rugged signs were posted with the words "Southern Gold Road" hacked into the dried, splintered wood. The road stretched out before her, vast and dusty. Birds soared overhead, dotted intermittently with the larger shapes of wyverns. Naawe moved at a brisk pace but she took the time to take in all that the Barrens had to offer. In the distance she heard the sounds of wild animals. It made her uneasy, those noises, and she shifted into her cheetah form in order to quicken her pace.

It wasn't long until she spotted someone marching along the well-trod trail. It was easy enough to determine that it was a grown Tauren male. Swiftly Naawe shifted into her feral cat form, fading into the swirling dust that bit at her face. The Tauren came closer and Naawe relaxed. He was no Grimtotem - fur the color of moist, rich earth covered his form as opposed to the midnight black that all Grimtotem bore. She shifted back into her Tauren form and approached the male.

Upon seeing her, the male beamed brightly. "Hail!"

"Hello, friend," Naawe spoke. Her interactions with those outside her own clan had been nonexistent and she found herself unsure with how to proceed.

"I am Gann Stonespire," he bellowed amicably, "I meet many travelers on this road! What might your name be?"

Naawe couldn't help but smile. He was so friendly, so different than what she was used to. "I am called Naawe Riverbreeze."

Those words made Gann frown sharply. "Riverbreeze, you say? I know of one Riverbreeze, Maybess. She makes her home in Felwood." He paused and scratched his chin. "The other Riverbreeze were killed long ago in a Grimtotem raid at Sun Rock Retreat. I believe all were slain save for Maybess and her much younger sister. The youngest girl, a mere baby, was kidnapped by the Grimtotem and assumed to be dead." Gann squinted at Naawe as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "You are sure your name is Riverbreeze?"

Naawe nodded, choking back bitter tears. She had an older sister, in Felwood no less. "I am Naawe Riverbreeze," she confirmed shakily, blinking back tears that threatened to spill forth. Her heart was heavy with sorrow for the parents she couldn't remember and would never know. But despite the sadness that threatened to consume her, Naawe felt hope. She had an older sister. She had a family. Things so alien to her, it was hard for her to cope.

Realization flooded Gann's features and he smiled broadly. "Walk with me, Naawe of the Riverbreeze clan. We have much to talk about." Before Naawe could argue, Gann wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and forced her to keep in step with him. He turned to head north once again. Silence overtook them as Gann gave Naawe time to gather her emotions. Time passed comfortably before he spoke again.

"Maybess lives in Felwood. The land there is very tainted with death and decay. The animals suffer from disease, the land weeps tears of sludge, and the Earthmother cries out in agony. Maybess worked close with the Runetotem clan for years as she aged and is now a very skilled healer. A druid for the Emerald Circle, Maybess works to cleanse the poisoned land there. In fact, I think she is now recruiting adventurers to assist her in her work." He smiled sheepishly, "We have talked of life, Maybess and I, and our own future together." Naawe had to smile. Gann's fondness for her sister was unmistakable.

"Enough of my rambling words, little lost one." His words filled her with warmth. "I am sure you have great plans ahead of you."

Naawe shook her head, "I had a vision dream, Gann. Malorne, Apa'ro, he came to me in a dream and told me that I must find my place in this life." She shrugged and shot him a small smile, "I had no idea where this vision would take me, but I am glad that I have found you on my journey."

Gann chuckled heartily. "You can stop at Camp Taurajo for a meal and respite from your travels. The Barrens sun can be scalding during the midday hours." He paused thoughtfully, "From there you might also send a missive to your sister. The wyvern master would be happy to send one of his beasts to Felwood." Naawe nodded in agreement and Gann pointed her in the direction of the small Tauren town. She turned and took him into a fierce embrace before they parted ways.

"May the winds be at your back," he called after her as she shifted into her traveling form and made quick work of the short path to Camp Taurajo.


	5. Magatha's Truth

--IN SEARCH OF ANSWERS; THE TRUTH WILL SET US FREE

--IN SEARCH OF ANSWERS; THE TRUTH WILL SET US FREE

Naawe did not tarry long at Camp Taurajo, staying only long enough for a swift, filling meal. After speaking to Gann and learning more about her past, the druid had made a swift decision to make haste to Thunder Bluff. There she could speak to Magatha and demand the truth from the old crone.

It was a surreal feeling, moving from the Barrens to Mulgore. The dry and cracked savannah of the Barrens swiftly morphed into lush green meadows. Naawe did not fight the urge to kneel and run her fingers through the cool blades of grass, instead giving into the impulse to feel the silken plants tickle against her fingers. This was home. Mulgore held the answers to her heritage. Mulgore _was_ her heritage.

Naawe moved swiftly to the end of the road where signs were posted. Bloodhoof Village was straight ahead, the small settlement lively and bustling. She turned resolutely to the right- to Thunder Bluff. She'd never once seen the mesas of her people's capital city and as it came into sight, Naawe paused. The plateaus of the mighty Tauren city rose high into the sky. They were stunning against the emerald plains that spread as far as the eye could see. Naawe could make out numerous of the traditional Tauren buildings and idly she wondered which one Magatha called home.

She neared Thunder Bluff and slipped up the ramp leading to the lift, a mechanism that transported travelers from the bottom of the city to the top. Confidently she stepped aboard and rode the lift to the pinnacle before stepping off and moving forward into the heart of Thunder Bluff.

The city was busy with merchants selling their wares: blacksmiths, weapon vendors, miners, auctioneers. It was overwhelming and Naawe had to pause in order to take it all in. She truly hadn't expected the Bluff to be this exciting. A small chuckle broke past her lips as she approached one of the many patrolling Bluffwatchers, a band of guardians whose duty it was to keep Thunder Bluff free of dissent and disharmony. The kind Tauren directed to the Elder rise. It wasn't long until she found herself walking along one of the plank bridges that connected all of the rises together. She sought Magatha and would not leave until she had her answers.

As she approached the Elder Rise, Naawe caught sight of a few familiar faces. Gorm and Cor Grimtotem were standing guard outside a small modest tent. Naawe watched them do a double-take as they sighted her, Gorm quickly moving towards the tent. No doubt he was warning Magatha that Naawe approached. She moved to the front of the tent just as Gorm reclaimed his previous position. She paid them no heed, her eyes moving directly to the old crone Magatha, the wise and fearless leader of all the Grimtotem. Magatha was deep in conversation with her servant, Rahauro. All talk stopped when Magatha caught sight of Naawe.

"Moira," Magatha began, only to be swiftly cut off by Naawe's hand slashing through the air between them.

"No. I am Naawe Riverbreeze. Your lies end here, Magatha. I seek the truth that only you can provide." The words had force behind them, Naawe's tone matching the fierce expression on her face, "I have learned of my past, my heritage, and the Grimtotem's part in taking the lives of my family. The only question that remains, Magatha, is why."

The elder Grimtotem remained silent for a healthy stretch of time. She spoke with carefully chosen words, her voice low and raspy.

"Do not think you know everything, girl. There are many things that remain unknown and clouded." She chuckled though the sound held no humor, "I will set these things before you, child, and let you decide which path to take." Magatha motioned for Naawe to move into the tent, gesturing at a small bench. "Sit." She closed the door flap behind her. Naawe perched carefully on the very edge of the wooden seat while Magatha lowered herself onto a large bed of ratted cushions before beginning her tale in quiet, hushed tones.

"The Grimtotem have not always been held in such low regard. There was a time that all of the Tauren tribes lived in harmony. It could never have lasted, and I am surprised that all of the tribes got along for the length of time that they did." She paused to sip from a beaded water skin. "There were too many different opinions and none were strong enough to do what needed to be done to benefit everyone as a whole. That is why the Grimtotem have splintered from the rest of the more docile clans, and why I have decided to remain in Thunder Bluff. Cairne Bloodhoof's words are strong and true but I do not know if his intentions are best for our people. It is my duty to watch his every move."

Magatha paused to fuss with her robes. When next she spoke, her voice was harsh and raw with emotion.

"My own son Grimik was lost in a great battle against the centaur. His child- my grandson- was named Belvik. He was very much like you, Naawe. Belvik fought to make friends with the other Grimtotem but failed at each turn. Belvik was too kind and too thoughtful to truly fit in with the others. He had much turmoil within him but as my cherished son's boy I loved him dearly and fought to protect him, much like I have struggled to protect you. Belvik was closer to the Earthmother than any other I have known, Naawe. He often told me he heard from her daily and that her conversations with him opened his eyes to the hurt and pain inflicted on her and her children.

"One night my beloved Belvik came to me much like you have, Naawe. He spoke to me of a vision quest he'd had, one in which Apa'ro came to him and had shown him what his place in this life was. I knew that he would go, and I knew I would never see him again. You see, I too had had a vision. One of death and one I had never hoped to see in all my years." Magatha's voice broke and she paused to regain her shattered composure. Naawe had never seen Magatha so emotional and it worried the young druid. "Before he left and as a gift of love and pride I gave him a neckpiece crafted of the finest shell beads and kodo bone. He wore it always." Naawe watched Magatha take another long pull from her water skin.

Magatha sighed weakly, forcing herself to continue the story that seemed to bring her such pain.

"Belvik travelled the length of Kalimdor, wandering where the Earthmother needed him most. His journeys took him from the icy wilds of Winterspring to the insect-wracked lands of Silithus. He healed the land where he went and brought hope to everyone he met. Belvik had no enemies and did not discriminate against either faction, Horde or Alliance. He was filled with purpose and compassion and many of the Grimtotem could not understand his love for the lives of others. My Belvik had been chosen by the Earthmother to show others how to live in harmony with the land and its inhabitants – and most importantly, with each other. Belvik gained wisdom beyond his years, an inner peace that you could see in his eyes.

"One day I received word that Belvik had chosen to settle in Stonetalon, a mountain range just over the rise to the north of Thunder Bluff. He'd met a female there, one he desired as his mate. Her name was Emme and she was a druid who worked in the Charred Vale. Emme, a widow, had a daughter previous to meeting Belvik but my grandson loved that child as his own. Eventually Emme gave birth to another daughter, Belvik's child."

Magatha watched Naawe carefully. It did not take the younger Tauren long to realize what Magatha was alluding to, and with renewed strength Magatha continued.

"Belvik once more sent word of his new family, his beloved daughter. He said he was finally complete and utterly happy, that he had found his place in this life. Belvik told me that he desired to immerse himself completely into Emme's clan. This would mean that he would drop all allegiance to the Grimtotem clan and would no longer consider himself one of us. He would no longer be what I have struggled for, what I have created, what I have nurtured. He would no longer be a Grimtotem and I could not bear his treason.

"I cannot tell you how that wounded my heart, his betrayal to his clan and his betrayal to me, to his father. I could not let this pass. I did what I had to do. I lost a piece of myself that day, Naawe, and if I could go back in time to correct the mistakes I have made, I would do it."

Naawe could not believe what she was hearing. Horror crept along her skin until all she felt was bone-chilling fear and disgust by what had transpired. Wide-eyed, she whispered, "What … what did you do, Magatha?"

Magatha was quiet as minutes stretched on. Silent tears etched their way down her rugged features as she spoke in hollow, empty tones.

"I assembled a band of warriors, Grimtotem warriors. I sent them to Sun Rock Retreat and I had each and every member of that clan killed. Every member except the baby, which I ordered to be brought back to the camp we had secured in Dustwallow Marsh, and Emme's oldest child. As proof of Belvik's death I demanded that they bring me the neckpiece that Belvik wore. The one I had given to him."

Naawe shook her head, her features contorted into an expression of horror, "No, no, no," she whispered as Magatha finished her tale. "How could you have done that to your own grandson, Magatha? How could you be so heartless?"

"I cannot make excuses for my actions," Magatha brushed the tears from her weathered face. "I cannot change the past, Naawe, but I hope to change the future." From within her robes she removed a small satchel. With shaking hands she held it out to Naawe, a look of deep regret glistening in her tear-dampened eyes. Naawe took the small package and at Magatha's silent urgings she opened it.

Inside rested the necklace that Magatha had spoken of. Shell beads of the softest cream were interwoven with satiny leather. A large, masculine pendant of polished Kodo bone was the centerpiece of the necklace. The name "Belvik" had been painstakingly engraved on one side, "_Beloved Son of the Earthmother_"in Taurahe on the other.

As Naawe held the necklace in her trembling hands, Magatha continued, her voice weak and laced with regret and a deep, deep sorrow.

"Emme's clan name was Riverbreeze. You are Belvik's daughter, a true Grimtotem. Your half-sister's life was spared. Her name is Maybess. When you were brought to me I gave you my mother's name, Moira. But as you grew older I knew that you were more like your father in so many ways… in every way. I am sorry for the difficult life you have lead up until today, the trials you have endured at the hands of the Grimtotem," Magatha straightened her back, shifting on her pillows. "I've lived with my mistakes every day of my life, Naawe. I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I only hope in time you will forgive me because I am unable to forgive myself."

Naawe stared at the necklace for what seemed like an eternity before she secured it 'round her neck, tying the braided leather loosely in place. After a few moments of regaining her composure Naawe lifted her gaze to meet Magatha's. She could see the pain and sorrow deep in Magatha's eyes, the regret and self-disgust she felt for herself. The young druid rose to her feet and stepped to Magatha.

"I do not understand why you felt they needed to die, great-Grandmother," Naawe spoke softly, "and while part of me wants to hate you for what you have denied me, a bigger part of me has been freed from it all. I am happy to know the truth." She paused and leaned forth to press a kiss against Magatha's forehead. "The Earthmother calls to me, Magatha. I am a Grimtotem by blood but my soul sings the Riverbreeze song. You and I both know this. I must go to my sister and let her know that I am alive. I must find my place in this life as a Riverbreeze and as my father's daughter."

Magatha nodded. "I know this. In your travels, you might also stop at Sun Rock Retreat. There is an old druid, Tammra Windfield, who was very close friends with your mother. She might have tales to share with you, stories to regale you with." Magatha smiled sadly, "Perhaps someday I will see you again, Naawe. Take this to aid you in your travels." Magatha gave Naawe a small leather bag filled with gold coin.

Naawe grasped Magatha's hands in her own, wordlessly squeezing them before she stepped away. "Goodbye, Magatha." Naawe turned and lifted the tent's door flap and hastily stepped outside.

Once outdoors Naawe paid the Grimtotem guards no attention. She was free to be on her way, free to meet her sister and free to find her path in life.

The Earthmother called.


End file.
